The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart

Chapter 966

The words “my husband” soothed Isaac, but anxiety quickly took hold again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that seniors always had a knack for falling for the juniors, for example, William.

After exchanging pleasantries, Hugh turned to Brittany with a friendly grin. “Bri, let’s swap digits. We should grab some grub sometime.”

Brittany jotted down her number and helped a completely sloshed Charles into the car.

“Take care, Hugh,” she said as Isaac shut the car door and took his place behind the wheel, casting a lingering glance at Hugh before driving away.

Brittany, sitting in the backseat, kept a watchful eye on Charles, making sure Charles didn’t topple over in the drunken stupor.

Once home, she ushered Charles into the guest room. There was an unspoken rule about propriety between men and women, and Brittany couldn’t very well undress him. With no one else in the house, and Isaac certainly not the one to help Charles out, she thought to call for the housekeeper. But Isaac stopped her.

“Men can go a night without a shower. No big deal. Let’s head to bed,” he said, steering her back to their room.

Once inside, Isaac wasted no time peeling off her clothes and nibbling at her earlobe. “You and that guy from tonight, you two close?”

“We worked a part-time job together in college, Brittany replied truthfully. “After graduation, he moved to Craneville, and we lost touch.”

was evident. “Try to keep

had to laugh at his possessiveness. “You’re overthinking it. Hugh’s had a girlfriend since our college days. They’re probably

he could meld her into his very being, then they could

be for

check on Charles but was firmly held back by Isaac. “If you’re not

worrying about another man, was

speak another word and snuggled into Isaac’s chest. “Okay,

at last, Isaac held her close as they drifted off to

like it was about to explode. She staggered downstairs, drawn to the sound of someone

water?” she groaned,

a crisp voice replied, “Honey water

took the glass and gulped it down, the sweetness easing her misery. Only then did she notice the voice didn’t sound right. Squinting through puffy eyes, she saw a little boy about six or seven years old, dressed in a white shirt, suspenders, and

intrigued by the stranger in his house.

Charles blurted,

Who was this kid? Why was

table. This is my house. Where did you